


Eyes Like A Cat

by LastHope



Series: Demons and Demigods [2]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Ada Levesque - OC, First Meetings, Gen, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Six year old Hazel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastHope/pseuds/LastHope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus Bane goes to visit an old friend of his, only to discover they have passed away in his absence…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Like A Cat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion to my work 'Dragon Pox' but 'Dragon Pox' does not need to be read in order to understand this work. I used French in parts because my headcanon Hazel is bilingual with English and Louisiana French. That being said, French is my third language, and I do not know the Louisiana French dialect, so there are probably mistakes in translations. If you find mistakes, or know a better way of phrasing something, feel free to let me know! Translations are located at the end of the work.

“ _Maman!_ _Un client est ici!”_

There was a little kid hanging off the doorknob of the apartment.  She looked up at Magnus with eyes the color of molten gold, not taking them away as she called out for her mother.  Probably enamored by his eyes, Magnus thought.  He hadn’t bothered hiding them with a glamour because he had been in the area to see an old friend.  Apparently, he had had a lapse in memory, because while he could have _sworn_ that this was his friend’s apartment, last time he had been by she hadn’t had a kid _quite_ that young.

“ _Ses yeux sont comme un chat, Maman!”_ The little girl called out again in French, excited.  She sounded amazed, which probably didn’t take a lot.  From Magnus’ experience, six year olds got excited over pretty much anything.  She repeated herself.  “ _Un chat, Maman!”_

Magnus’ French was rusty, as he had not had reason to speak it in a while, but he had a good enough grasp to understand what the girl was yelling as she called for her mother.  He scrambled to find the right translation for what he wanted to say, from English to French.  Parisian French would have to do, as he didn’t know the local Creole.

“ _Désolé_ ,” Magnus started by apologizing, and figured his accent was atrocious, by the look the kid was giving him.  “ _Mademoiselle Ada ne vit pas ici?”_

“ _Non_ ,” The girl was replying, shaking her head as her mother appeared at the door.

“Hazel, what have I said about answering the door,” Her mother berated the young girl as she arrived and, to Magnus’ utter delight, spoke English.

“Not to,” The girl, Hazel apparently, whined, drooping on the doorknob a bit.  And it seemed that the little vixen spoke English as well.  Seemed everyone was out to play Magnus today.  Just showed what happened when _he_ paid Louisiana an unexpected visit.

“Terribly sorry to bother you Ma’am,” Magnus said, raising his gaze to look at the mother rather than the child.  “I think I’ve got the wrong place; I was looking for Ada-” He stopped, actually taking a look at her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Marie Levesque,” Magnus asked abruptly. “Would you?”

If she was, by _God_ , it had been a long time since Magnus had last visited Louisiana.  The last time he had been down this far south and still in the States, it had been Mardis Gras, and Marie Levesque had only been about eleven years old, if that.  The woman standing before him was thirty, at least, but was practically a carbon-copy of the preteen he had seen almost two decades prior.  It looked like the years had treated her kindly.

“It’s _Queen_ Marie,” Hazel interjected before her mother could say anything, an imperious tone in her voice.  She was grinning, and Magnus absently noticed she was missing one of her front teeth.  Her head turned to look up at Marie, still hanging off of the doorknob.  “Right, Maman _?_ ”

“Hazel,” Marie was looking at Magnus like she had seen a ghost.  “Why don’t you run along to your room and play?”  It wasn’t a suggestion so much as an order.

“There’s no need to send her away,” Magnus assured immediately.  “I was looking for Ada Levesque.  Did I get the address wrong?” He didn’t miss the tightening at Marie’s mouth, and watched as her hand disappeared into her purse, and she pulled a coin from it, and set her other hand on her daughter’s shoulder. 

“Hazel,” Marie held out her hand, dropping a shiny quarter into her daughter’s hand.  “Why don’t you run along and find Sammy?  Go get some beignets.”

“Really Maman?” Hazel gasped with delight, all smiles, but didn’t give her mother a chance to answer.  She threw her arms around Marie’s legs in a quick hug, and then she was squeezing past Magnus, racing down the apartment stairs to the New Orleans streets below.

“You didn’t have to send her away,” Magnus remarked casually, but he could understand why Marie did so.  Marie ignored him.

“Why are you looking for Ada?” She snapped harshly, and it was with a sort of venom that left Magnus blinking, reeling.  “Why are you looking for my mother?”

“Calm down, Miss Marie,” Magnus raised his hands in a placating manner.  “I’m an old friend of your mother’s.  We knew each other for a long time.”

Marie barked a laugh.  Magnus wasn’t surprised at her doubt; his clock had been stopped when he was nineteen, and he remembered Ada using a glamour to age with her daughter in an attempt for normalcy.  If Ada hadn’t told Marie of the Shadow world, Magnus could see how Marie was unable to believe that a seemingly nineteen year old male was claiming to know her mother, who, through the use of glamours, was probably appearing fifty years of age or older.

“I’m supposed to believe that?” Marie glared at him.  It was the sort of look that Magnus was used to.  “My mother has been dead for _fifteen years_.  I highly doubt you were an old friend of my mother’s, let alone even knew her.”

Well, that hadn’t been the sort of news Magnus had been expecting.  He hadn’t been in touch with Ada in a while, but he hadn’t expected the next thing to hear about her was that she was dead.  It was very saddening; she hadn’t been the most powerful of warlocks, but she had been decent in her own right. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Magnus said, ignoring Marie’s jab.  “If you don’t mind my asking, how did it happen?”

“What does it matter?” Marie scoffed, “It’s been fifteen years.  But, if you must know,” she continued, shooting Magnus a dark look as if he had personally offended her, “she was killed.  Murdered, walking home from a client’s one night.”

“I’m sorry to hear,” Magnus wondered who had done it; considering the New Orleans Downworlder population, it was possible that anything could have killed Ada from a regular mundane to another Downworlder, or even one of the local Shadowhunters.

“Bah,” Marie waved his condolences away like they were a particularly annoying gnat.  “You don’t really mean that.  Now get out of my home!”

She glared darkly at Magnus, but before he could point out that he wasn’t _in_ her home- he hadn’t even left the hallway, really -Marie had slammed the door to the apartment shut.  Magnus sighed, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to the treatment.  He turned back around, and descended the staircase that led back down to the street.

Once on the street, Magnus pondered the merits between simply Portalling back home, or staying a while and getting himself drunk in one of the local bars.  Getting drunk was looking like a particularly pleasant idea, when something barreled into his side.  A forehead ricocheted off of his hip, before the owner was sprawled across the street.

“Oww,” The owner whined, rubbing their forehead.  Magnus laughed, and attention was immediately directed towards him, and not the minor boo-boo that had been sustained by their collision. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Looking down, it appeared that the person who had run into Magnus was the little girl who had been Marie Levesque’s daughter.  Hazel, he was pretty sure Marie had called her.  “Are you okay?”  There was white covering her mouth, and a brown paper bag held in her hand.  It was probably powdered sugar from the beignets.

“Oh!” Hazel gave a small gasp as she stared up at him.  “You’re _Monsieur Chat_!”

Ah, Mister Cat.  Magnus supposed that was better than being called anything else.  Besides, he at least could tell that Hazel meant no malice with her words.  Considering her wonderment and amazement at him earlier, Magnus figured that she chose the name because of his eyes.

“Did you have a nice time with Maman, Monsieur Chat?”  She asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.  Magnus spared an idle thought to where the friend her mother had sent her off to was, before deciding it didn’t really matter.

“It’s Hazel, right?” Magnus asked, and she nod-nod-nodded, her curls bouncing all around her face.  “Well, Hazel, your Maman and I had a nice talk, but I am afraid I might have made her mad.”

“Uh-oh,” Hazel drew the word out, long and solemn.

“Yes,” Magnus agreed. “‘Uh-oh’.  Would you mind apologizing to your Maman for me?”

“I ‘unno,” Hazel hemmed.  “Maman doesn’t really like me talkin’ to strangers.”

She had already seen his eyes, and she was only six at most, so Magnus didn’t see the harm in what he did next.

“Would a stranger give you this?” He crouched down to eye-level with Hazel, and moved his hands in a random motion, letting blue sparks dance across his fingertips.  Really, for the sort of magic Magnus was doing, he didn’t need to do more than twitch a finger, but he had a thing for impressing little kids- their reactions to actual magic always amused him.

Hazel, of course, did not disappoint.

Her golden eyes widened in amazement, and she snatched the doll from Magnus’ hands almost immediately.  It was just one of the typical dolls that were being sold nowadays in stores that was popular with little girls, but Magnus had put in the extra effort and changed the coloring of the doll so its skin tone matched Hazel’s.  She let out a squeal of delight, hugging it close.

“Oh, _merci_ , Monsieur Chat, _merci beaucoup!_ ” Hazel said, before reining in her excitement, as a different sort of wonderment befell her.

“You can do _la sorcellerie_ , just like me Monsieur Chat!” She whispered, almost like a secret.

_La sorcellerie._   The witchcraft; the sorcery.  It was one term that Magnus remembered from older times, in Paris.  Looking at Hazel, it wasn’t an immediate thought brought to Magnus’ imagination that she was a warlock, but he knew from experience that not all warlock marks were as evident as his own.

If Hazel was a warlock, it could explain Marie’s attitude somewhat.  And if Ada had been messing with demon summoning prior to her death, it was possible…

Still, there was a chance that Magnus was just casting an old friend into a bad light, and he was allowing a six year old to pull his leg.

“Really?” He decided to indulge her, just in case.  If she turned out to really be a young warlock, Magnus would just make a quick stop at the home of the High Warlock of New Orleans before leaving and notify her about Hazel, letting her decide what to do with the situation.  After all, this wasn’t his jurisdiction.  “What sort of _sorcellerie_ can you do?”

“Watch!” Hazel beamed, and turned her attention toward the ground.  Magnus, too, turned his attention toward the ground, wondering what Hazel would do.  He also kept an eye to Hazel’s hands, looking for the tell-tale sparks signaling the use of magic.

Magnus saw none, but as he watched the ground, he could see stones and pebbles on the ground shiver, rocking on the ground.  He hoped that Hazel wasn’t trying to cause an earthquake, or accidentally causing one.  Experience told Magnus that young warlocks could accidentally cause ‘natural’ disasters trying to use their powers.  Not that that had ever happened to him, of course.

But, no, that wasn’t what was occurring.  A small hole formed in the ground, and-

“Look!” Hazel snagged it off the ground, grinning.  She was missing a tooth.  “ _Il est comme un chat!_ ”

It was a small gem, not even the size of Hazel’s palm.  Mostly green in color, it didn’t take a trained eye to see that Hazel had made a piece of jade rise from the ground.  She held it out toward Magnus, as if offering it to him.

“For you,” She clarified.  “For the dolly.”

“The doll was a gift,” Magnus told Hazel, mind working with the details- _no sparks, no father to be seen-_

“Please?” Hazel insisted.  “Maman probably won’t accept your ‘pology anyways, because she’s been _really_ mean to people who aren’t clients lately.”

“Really?” Magnus said, holding out his hand and letting Hazel dump the piece of jade in his palm.

“Mmhmm!” She nodded.  “Most of ‘em are these people who have all these drawin’s all over ‘em.  Maman calls ‘em,” Hazel paused, looking side to side as if checking for someone eavesdropping, before leaning close to Magnus, whispering, “ _Chasseur d’ombres_.”

“ _Chasseur d’ombres?_ ” Magnus repeated, and Hazel nodded energetically.  It didn’t take much effort to translate _that_ phrase to English. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Hazel confirmed.  “Maman blames ‘em for Grand-maman’s death, but I never met Grand-maman ‘afore.”

“Thank you for telling me this Hazel,” Magnus thanked her, but Hazel just shrugged.

“’Snot a problem,” She shrugged, before continuing cheerfully, “Maman says she’s gonna put a _curse_ on the next one who comes by botherin’ us!”  She paused, as if realizing a missed opportunity, and looked at Magnus with suspicious eyes.

“ _You’re_ not a _Chasseur d’ombres_ , are you?” Hazel asked suspiciously, and Magnus responded with laughter.

“No, no I’m not,” He laughed, and ruffled Hazel’s hair as he stood back up.  Hazel made a noise of displeasure as he did so, but Magnus figured it more out of habit than anything, as she didn’t swat his hand away.  “I’m what your grand-maman was.”  Not that Hazel probably knew what Ada was, but Magnus didn’t see any harm in telling her.

Hazel seemed to accept that answer, and picked the bag of beignets off the ground when Magnus moved his hand off of her head.

“All right,” She vocalized her acceptance.  Hazel started back to the building where she and her mother lived.

“ _Au revoir, Monsieur Chat!_ ” She called as she hopped backwards to the building, waving energetically.  “Watch out for all those _Chasseur d’ombres!_ ”

Magnus smiled and waved goodbye, dropping his hand only when Hazel had disappeared into the building.  Once she was gone, he sighed.  Raising the piece of jade to the sun, watching the light sparkle and reflect off of it.

He pocketed the jade, and set off down the street in the opposite direction of the bars.

Before he could drink, he had to have a conversation with a High Warlock about some Shadowhunters.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Maman - Mom/Mommy
> 
> Grand-maman - Grandmother/Grandmom
> 
> Un client est ici - A client is here!
> 
> Ses yeux sont comme un chat, Maman! Un chat, Maman! - His eyes are like a cat, Mom! A cat, Mom!
> 
> Désolé - Sorry
> 
> Mademoiselle Ada ne vit pas ici? - Miss Ada does not live here?
> 
> Monsieur Chat - Mister Cat
> 
> Merci/Merci beaucoup - Thank you/Thank you very much
> 
> La sorcellerie - Witchcraft/Sorcery/Magic
> 
> Il est comme un chat - It is like a cat
> 
> Au revoir - Bye-bye/Goodbye
> 
> Chasseur d'ombres - Shadowhunters (literally, 'Hunter of Shadows') This is the official translation I found from the French cover of The Shadowhunter's Codex.


End file.
